Snapshots of an Alternate Sunnydale
by Dark-Dreymer
Summary: A photo album holds a history of painful memories for Xander and Larry. AU, angst, mentions of character death.


There's a heavy tension in the air. As he walks through the house Xander knows that everyone can feel it too and he knows instinctively that he isn't alone in trying to ignore it. He finds Larry sitting alone in Amy's bedroom with a book resting unopened on his lap.

"Hey," Xander greets gently.

Larry looks up and the way his eyes soften slightly reflects the loosening of the tension deep in Xander's gut.

"Hi." Larry shuffles sideways on the bed in invitation.

Closing the door gently behind him Xander sinks onto the bed beside the other man. The silence lingers as both men sit and listen to the cacophony of unspoken questions and unshared sentiments inside their heads. After some time Larry passes the book in his lap to Xander.

The cover is navy blue, made of a cheap imitation leather. The word 'memories' is embossed in gold, but heavy scratching on its left side suggests it once read 'happy memories' or 'precious memories' or some other such phrase that seems incongruous in Sunnydale.

The first photograph brings a small smile to Xander's face, "Your sixth birthday." He turns to face Larry and sees that the other man is smiling somewhat too. He turns his attention back to the photograph, the six-year-old Larry has a wide smile, a cola stain on the shirt his mother made him wear and an Optimus Prime action figure held tightly in one hand, fending off attacks from a young Xander's Millennium Falcon, "I still say I won."

Larry snorts, "You wish. Besides we both know we were no match for the stegosaurus."

Xander turns back to the photo and the aforementioned dinosaur, it's in the hands of a girl with red pigtails, blue dungarees and a striped sweater made of two colors of wool that should never have seen the light of day, least of all each other; there's a heavy pang in Xander's heart as he looks at her. A pang that only grows when he turns the page and sees the next photograph.

"I burned this photo," Xander murmurs.

"I know," Larry's hand finds its way to Xander's and squeezes tightly, "I used the negatives to make a copy. This is the last picture of her."

Xander runs a trembling finger along the image. Halloween, Sophomore year; their usual tradition of spending as little as possible on their costumes. None of them knew that Willow's dollar store vampire fangs would prove painfully prescient.

"I remember thinking that it was going to be the last Halloween we'd all spend together," Xander admitted quietly, "You'd made it onto the football team and you were so keen to show off your stupid letter jacket that you went as a footballer... I figured you were going to get tired of hanging around with two losers who'd just bring your rep down, that we'd lose you but... Will, Willow would've been there."

"I could never have abandoned you. Losing Willow was like losing a limb, I couldn't have survived losing both of you..." Larry squeezed Xander's hand again and turned the page.

Willow left a hole; a hole that Buffy had never attempted to fill. The third photo was a portrait of the group that rose from the ashes of what had once been the Musketeers; the very first Scooby gang.

"You were so in love with Buffy," Larry playfully nudged Xander.

The pang in Xander's heart ebbed as he realized Larry's attempts to provide light banter, something he dearly needed at that moment, "I was not."

"You so were," Larry tapped Xander's face in the photo, "Look at you mooning over her."

"So maybe I was a little in love with her," Xander conceded. Being honest with himself he had always been in a little in love with Buffy, would probably always be a little in love with Buffy, but looking at where his gaze was in the photo he had to wonder whether Larry had always been a little in love with him.

"Oh hey, I remember that," Xander exclaimed when the page was turned again, "I think I lost mine."

"You did," Larry replied with certainty, "This is a copy of mine, I got them to blow it up so you'd have a harder time losing it, but then..."

There was no need to finish; Xander recalled it all. Their Buffyless summer, nights spent trying and often failing to emulate her success in fighting vampires. Days spent trying and often failing to emulate the joys of summer vacation. The photo was from one such day. A photo-strip split between the four of them; Cordelia, radiant as always even though she was ducked down in the corner. Amy, a cheerful smile on her face, but around her neck a cross necklace betraying her insecurities at the new turn her life had taken. Larry, perched on the stool with Amy and Cordelia both awkwardly balancing on his lap; a band-aid stuck to his hairline. Xander, mostly stood outside the curtain, leaning heavily on Larry in order to be in the shot; totally ignorant that two days later Larry would tearfully come out to him and there would be no such casual touches for some time.

The next image in the album was, in context, a symbol of progression.

"You thought I only asked you because I didn't want to go with Anya," Xander challenged.

"You _did_ ask me because you didn't want to go with Anya," Larry reminded.

"Yes, but not only because of that." Xander knew he had no right to feel hurt by it, not after all the pain he'd caused Larry that year, but seeing the doubt shining in his lover's eyes in their Prom photo was always going to sting.

The sharp sting was soothed by the next photograph.

"You hate this photo," Xander smiled even as he said it.

"So I'm not exactly thrilled to have photos of me in hospital with my ribs bandaged up," Larry returned sarcastically, "But I know how much you like this one."

"It's just for once," Xander's smile widened as he looked at the image of himself, comfortable in Larry's letter jacket and reading aloud from the collection of travel brochures he never got to use, "For once I didn't screw things up."

Larry returned Xander's smile and gave him a quick kiss before redirecting his attention to the photo, "I suppose I was wary at first because with the Mayor looming over our heads I was afraid your decision was being affected by the impending doom, but when he was gone and you weren't... that's when I started thinking maybe things would work out."

Xander's eyes widen at the next photo.

"No, this one needs to be burned!" He exclaims.

Larry snatches the album back before it can come to any harm and teases his lover, "Why? I think you look gorgeous."

Xander's ears go red as he looks at the photo; he still isn't sure who to blame for capturing the moment in film, from the blur of blonde hair slightly to one side their original intent had been to take a picture of the birthday girl, but with a slight turn of the camera they had instead set the lens upon Larry busy in the act of rumpling Xander in the corner of the rec room.

"I think we'd been together about six months at that point," Larry muses.

"Clearly enough time for you to have lost all sense of public decency," Xander bites back. Looking back at the picture Xander feels a touch of residual surprise, at a time when it had felt like his life was going nowhere and he was burning through every dead-end job a few weeks at a time it had felt so odd to have something going well and actually lasting.

"The apartment luke-warming," Xander laughs aloud at the next photo. They had been so excited to be moving into their own place that they'd organized the party before learning how to operate the stubborn central heating system.

"Not one of our best," Larry comments glibly.

"Are you kidding?" Xander demands, "Are you forgetting Dawn's blanket fort?"

Larry laughs at the memory and concedes the point. There is something both men find heartwarming about the fact that it is an event they know truly happened and wasn't planted into their minds by the monks.

The next photo is one Xander recognizes as his own. The original intent had been for an 'Employee of the Month' plaque at the Magic Box; Larry has his arms crossed and his brows set into a line of disapproval, but the glimmer of amusement that Xander learned to recognize at an early age is present. On one side Anya is trying to push her way into the shot and Xander can still remember her angry litany of why she deserved the award more.

"You know I don't think Giles ever did agree to the plaque."

"Oh man," Xander sighs and buries his face in his hands at the sight of the next one, "Where did you get this one?"

"It's the test shot I took with the digital camera I got you for your birthday last year," Larry replies, "Don't you remember?"

Xander thinks about it for a few seconds, "I remember you sticking a flash in my face while I was trying to sleep so I threw a pillow at you." He looks down at the image of himself, tangled up in the bedsheets, hair a tangled mess with one arm reared back about to launch the pillow, "If I remember rightly I hit you," Xander adds, a touch smugly.

Larry grins and pokes Xander in the ribs, the two tussle for a few moments and Larry recalls that particular day a little better. He'd filled an entire memory card at the party that evening but when he'd gone to print them out only the shot of Xander in bed had appealed to him; it was a small reminder that even in the dark times there were small moments of joy to be found.

The next photo is much more recent, only taken last summer. Xander remembers the many days they spent with Dawn, playing games, watching TV or, as the photo shows, translating Sumerian; although she would never try to fill the hole that Willow had left Xander can't help but think Dawn would be a much better fit than Buffy.

He turns the page but the next is blank; he turns a few more before flicking through the remaining pages and finding them all empty.

"There should be more," Larry declares with a touch of distress.

Xander shares the sentiment but doesn't want to speak it aloud because after their detour down memory lane they are back to where they began, quaking in the shadow of the battle the morning will bring.

"So we'll take more," Xander presents his solution calmly. Standing up from the bed he searches through Amy's drawers for a moment before finding a disposable camera; settling back down he settles himself comfortably against Larry's side and holds the camera out at arms length, "After it's all over we'll go and get this one developed. Then after that we can take more, lots more. You and me and everyone, enough to fill that whole album." Xander tries hard to believe his own promise as the click of the camera captures the moment.

Later the couple cuddle close in Amy's bed, both awake but content to remain in the cacophonous silence. Xander considers the photograph and what it will look like; will their smiles look clearly forced? Will the fear be visible in their eyes? Will his poor depth perception have caused him to only photograph the upper halves of their faces? He shifts in Larry's embrace and presses a soft kiss to a patch of bare skin on a whim. Larry responds with a kiss to Xander's temple and the two settle down once more.

In that moment Xander reaches the conclusion that the quality of the photograph doesn't matter because it can have no impact on the quality of the moment. In that moment he is secure in the arms of someone who knows him but loves him in spite of his many faults; someone who used to huddle under the blankets with him during thunderstorms and pretend the noises didn't scare him too. So, now as the biggest storm to ever hit Sunnydale builds into a frenzy deep in the Hellmouth's core he knows that there is no-one else he would rather share this moment with.


End file.
